


Rainy Days and Broken Promises *on hold until finished w/ one project*

by clueless_nameless



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Angst, Eventual Romance, F/M, Identity Reveal, Origins mention, Partial Identity Reveal, Umbrella Scene, better tags to come once i figure out what this mess will become, eventual identity reveal, hoo boy u ready for this because im not
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-13
Updated: 2016-03-20
Packaged: 2018-05-26 10:09:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6234538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clueless_nameless/pseuds/clueless_nameless
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His heart jolts and he tries to ignore the way his stomach does flips as she takes another step closer. And really, all he wants is for her to be closer, <em>closer, c l o s e r.</em> Because really, he’d almost lost her. He’d almost lost her. <em>Paris</em> had almost lost <em>Ladybug.</em></p><p>But <em>he’d</em> almost lost <em>her.</em></p><p>And the city be damned, because she is so much more important to him than this wretched place would ever be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In Which Ladybug Accidentally, Unknowingly Confesses

**Author's Note:**

> i'm not sure if i want to leave this as a oneshot or continue it as a multi-chapter fic.
> 
> This is my first fanfiction for this fandom! Comments and constructive criticism are greatly appreciated!
> 
> Also! This is based off of [THIS](http://ladyofacat.tumblr.com/post/140599775108/after-the-white-butterfly-was-released-ladybug) tumblr post! (wowwee im the ultimate trash)

The rain falls and the world is hushed.

There’s nothing between him and her, yet the silence stretches—it is all encompassing and too thick… too strong… too much for him to break.

He wishes he could though, but he doesn’t—and he never does when she’s in a mood like this.

She stands, arms folded, expression stern and he watches from a distance, longing in his green cat-like eyes. His hair is soaked and he shivers, but he doesn’t try to find cover. He’s much more invested in watching his love, his Lady.

 _His Lady._ His hands clench involuntarily, the tight leather of his suit creaking with the motion; he’d almost lost her today. He hadn’t been fast enough and she’d taken such a big hit. She’d been unconscious and he’d had to shove away the feelings of panic in order to distract the Akumatized villain long enough for her to wake.

Because it wouldn’t help to fret over her limp body when the city needed saved. It wouldn’t do to choose one mystery girl over the entirety of Paris… _But she means so much more to him than Paris ever will._

It was a close call, so close, _too_ close, but they’d lived, hadn’t they?

He still would never be able to see a spatula in the same way ever again.

“Chat?”

He blinks, realizing just how close she’d gotten without him noticing.

“Yes, Lady?” He sweeps one hand out grandly as he drops into a low bow.

“Thank you.”

His heart jolts and he tries to ignore the way his stomach does flips as she takes another step closer. And really, all he wants is for her to be closer, _closer, c l o s e r._ Because really, he’d almost lost her. He’d almost lost her. _Paris_ had almost lost _Ladybug._

But _he’d_ almost lost _her._

And the city be damned, because she is so much more important to him than this wretched place would ever be.

Without her, this city would lose its sun. She is the sun, the moon, the stars. She is the world. Her smile, her bright bluebell eyes, the warmth in her giggles, and the kindness in her heart… She is everything he wishes he could be. She is more than anything he could ever dream to be or become.

“Anything for you, my Lady.” He responds simply, taking one red and black spotted hand in his own and placing a chaste kiss on her knuckles. The texture of the suit feels weird on his lips—bumpy and textured, breathable, flexible, so different than the fabric that his own costume is made of.

He could have sworn there is the slightest bit of red on her face, but it’s gone too fast for him to be sure. She jokingly pushes at his shoulder, making him take a step away, a silly smile on her face as she rolls her eyes.

He’s so over the top—always so over the top, but it makes her feel better. If her side aches, her head hurts that much more. Sure, he had been scared, but she’d been petrified. She could vaguely remember the hit, the sudden difficulty in breathing, and the fading of her vision. It’d been so… so scary.

But then she’d woken up and she still had a job to do.

The rain continues to fall. The world is still quiet, as though waiting with baited breath—for what? She would never know.

“Thank you… really, my silly kitty, thank you,” and with words as simple as that, she tries to convey all of her emotions—the fear, the gratitude, the relief… the… the _love._

Because you can’t work with someone for over a year and _not_ love them.

He just chuckles, but she can tell how pleased he is—how overwhelmed and happy he is to hear her voice. The idea that someone could love her seems ridiculous, but she’s seen the way he looks at her when he thinks she isn’t paying attention—and it makes her heart squeeze. It’s the same look she’s given a certain Adrien Agreste so many times before—longing, pinning, wanting.

And the fact that she can love this pretty little kitty doesn’t mean she’s over Adrien (just maybe she never will be), but it doesn’t mean she can’t appreciate Chat’s friendship and the beauty of a relationship so pure, because it is. It means the world to her—his company, his partnership, companionship is like the sun and the moon and the stars.

A fat drop lands on her nose, making her shiver involuntarily, breaking her from her sappy thoughts. She glances up at the sky, it doesn’t look like it’ll stop anytime soon, and briefly she is reminded of Adrien’s awkward kindness, the way she’d misread him upon their first meeting, and the childlike awe in his face when he’d realized she was (and still is) his friend—that he now had a new _friend_.

She glances at Chat Noir, he looks like he wants to say something, anything, but the combined ring of their miraculouses interrupt any words that might have been said.

“My home is near here, Chat, it’s cold… Do you have an umbrella?” She’s avoiding his gaze, one hand up and resting on the back of her head, the other nervously fiddling with her magical yoyo.

He shakes his head.

“Wait one second then,” she turns, running toward the alley she’d used as a spot to transform. Her bag lays in the same place she'd discarded it earlier. Beside the pink purse is an old, black umbrella.

“Here,” she says, handing him a very familiar umbrella, “I know cats don’t like to get wet… and I’m so close to home that I really don’t need it.”

Their miraculouses ring out in another warning. Chat takes the umbrella, staring dumbly at it for a moment. Recognition flashes behind his eyes, but she doesn’t notice.

“B-but, I’d like it back eventually, Chat,” he looks up and sees the bright red flush on her face, “it’s important to me… it’s… uh, it’s from this guy I like,” she laughs awkwardly before grabbing her yoyo and before he can think to speak—before he can process what had just occurred, she’s swinging away.

She’s gone, gone, _gone._

And part of him wants to laugh, because this umbrella is his. He knows that much, but it’s been so long since he’s seen it last—far too long, yet he doesn’t mind, because… because… _Ladybug_ had his umbrella this whole time.

And suddenly he realizes, “She has a crush on me?”

He’s trying so hard to keep his cool, because she has a crush on _him._ And, well, of course she doesn’t quite know it yet, but that’s okay. It’s totally fine. It’s actually more than okay, because soon she will know. She will know. And then another realization comes to him.

Ladybug is… Ladybug… is possibly the biggest contradiction he’s ever met, and somehow just the knowledge of her true identity makes him fall just a little further in love with her.

It’s just plain _unfair_ for someone to be as flawless as her.

Because, yeah, sure Marinette is shy, and stumbles over her words, but she’s just as kind, selfless, and beautiful as his Lady. And it makes sense—it makes _too much_ sense. And he wants to hit himself for not realizing it sooner.

Her voice, her hair, the bright spark of stubbornness in her eyes and that funny little quirk in her smile when she’s thinking intently. The same as his Lady. And her absences, the days that she’s clearly exhausted—just happening to coincide with the times that there are just one too many Akuma attacks. He feels so blind for not seeing it earlier.

But he can only beat himself up so much for such a silly mistake—after all, she’s made the same mistake. She’s sat behind him for all of their first year and yet she never once recognized the messy yet styled way his blond locks fell both as Adrien and as Chat. She’d never read into the subtle puns of he always dropped while in class—some of them paw-ticularly too similar to the ones he makes as his alter ego.

His miraculous chimes once more and he only has a second to duck down a quiet alley way before he detransforms and is left in his civilian clothing once more.

The rain continues to fall, but the world is no longer quiet nor hushed. In fact, it’s loud, too loud, and it’s beautiful despite the dulled grey tones that the dreary sky gives everything, but he’s so happy despite the rain, despite the fact that his shoes are getting soaked and his hair is already uncomfortably wet, he’s _so_ happy.

He wants to find Ladybug. He wants to run right over to Marinette’s house and squeal like an overzealous fan, but he can’t. He knows he can’t, because that would be weird.

No, it’d be more than weird. It’d be a mistake. It’d be a huge mistake—and suddenly the big, dopey grin that had fixed itself on his face falls. She doesn’t want him to know who she is. He can’t just… he can’t just tell her he knows now.

He can’t ruin this for her.

Even if he loves her. Even if she likes him—without even knowing it’s him. He just can’t do this, because he wants to respect her wishes. He wants to let her live in her secrecy, even if it kills him, because he _loves_ her—he loves her so much. So much that he can’t destroy her with this new found knowledge.

His stomach shifts uncomfortably, he feels frustrated, because this is _dumb._ This is _worse_ than not knowing. But he can’t go against his Lady’s wishes.

He’ll just have to wait… or maybe he can see if she’ll figure it out?

If it’s her who figures out their true identities… then it’ll be alright, right? It’ll be okay, wouldn’t it?

The rain falls, and the world is somehow too silent—muted and dulled, yet it is somehow so bright and inviting—so full of possibility.

He’s happy. Despite everything, he’s happy.

Because he _knows_. And soon, hopefully soon, she will too.


	2. In Which Everyone is Not Exactly Sure What They're Doing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok so my plan was to write something more angst but after re-writing this chapter like six times i changed my mind. On the bright side, I have more of a plan for this fic than I did when I posted the first part, so updates will come easier.
> 
> As a side note, I *never* write in present tense, and it's killing me, but I'm trying
> 
> And lastly, here's a link to my tumblr if you'd like to stop by and I dunno, do whatever you want, I guess. Live your dreams, man. [Tumblr](http://chichiluffsyouao3.tumblr.com/)

The first day back in classes after his discovery is the hardest—almost worse than the night before in which he’d suffered unendingly from Plagg’s tormenting teasings, and Adrien’s own insufferable doubts.

But it doesn’t take long for him to slip into his usual routines and after the exchange of a few jokes with Nino, Adrien finds himself finally able to relax fully.

He’s about to walk into the classroom, but it feels like he’s choking on too many feelings, too many emotions, and so much doubt. Nino charges right on into the class, in the same casual way Nino does just about anything, but Adrien can’t bring himself to move forward.

If he walks in there, what will he see? He doesn’t know what he expects, he doesn’t know what he wants to see. He doesn’t want to take another step. If he’s wrong about her, it just means he’s no closer to finding Ladybug than he was before, and if he’s right? He should be thrilled—he _is_ thrilled. But he’s guilty. Guilty, guilty, _guilty._

He has learned her secret before she was ever ready to let him know—a small voice says _‘she’ll probably never be ready though’._ But the fact is there, that she wanted their identities to be secret, and now? He’s ruined that. Not purposefully, of course, he’d never purposefully hurt his Lady…

And maybe that’s why he’s guilty, maybe that’s why he’s nervous, maybe that’s why he doubts the truth—because this could hurt Ladybug. This could hurt Marinette. Two of the kindest people he’d ever met, and it isn’t fair. It’s not fair to her or to him, but it’s especially not fair to her that he found out before she was ready.

But he walks into the classroom anyway. He walks in despite the fact that he feels like he’s dying on the inside, dying of shame and guilt and _glee._

Because in the end, there is no one more suited to be Ladybug than Marinette. Even if Marinette stutters, stammers, and stumbles her way through school and conversations, it makes sense. After all, if he uses Chat Noir as an outlet—as escape from the stuffy, cold, controlled life of Adrien, it makes sense that someone small and shy and quiet would use Ladybug to be more confident than she ever could be before.

When he takes a second to think about it, he can see the similarities between Ladybug and Marinette, the fiery personality along with a quiet intelligence, the kind of cleverness and creativity that sneaks up on you, Marinette with her fashion sense and design ability, and Ladybug with her problem solving skills. They’re both driven, they’re both smart, they’re both brave—willing to stand up for others and do the right thing.

There really is no one more suited to be Ladybug than Marinette.

 Nino looks at him strangely as he enters the room, perhaps wondering what had taken him so long, but thankfully doesn’t question anything.

“Good morning,” Adrien says, “good morning, Marinette.”

“Ah! What? Uh, gord mooning, er, uh, I-I mean, uh, g-good morging, no, n-not morging, I mean, goog dorming—ah, n-no, I, just, morning. Well, g-good… morning, good. Yeah, u-uh, g-good morning.”

It comes out in a rush, nearly unintelligible but he can understand the gist of it; she’s gripping the table all too hard, a white knuckled grip that, even if she had managed to speak somewhat normally, would betray her nerves. He can’t help but notice she’s not looking at him—actually, she’s looking determinedly anywhere but his face. He kind of wants to see her eyes, though, those blue, blue eyes.

But it seems that is where the conversation will end, because it falls silent and she’s still not looking at him, but as he pulls his chair our—the scrape of wood on wood has never been a pleasant noise to him, he tries not to flinch—her sweet and quiet voice surprises him with a small, “how’re you?”

When he glances back up, she’s still looking away. She’s boring holes into the wood of her desk with the intensity of her gaze, and he laments the fact that she won’t just look at him, and maybe that’s why he lets the pun slip, or maybe it’s because he’s so sure, _too sure_ , that Marinette is Ladybug, when he says, “Mew? I’m just purrfect, and you, my—” he cuts himself off, finishing lamely with a hasty, “M-marinette…”

And finally she looks up. She glances up so sharply with an expression that is just so distinctly Ladybug he can’t help but feel giddy all over again, but a second later and it’s gone and she’s looking at him with confusion, dismay, and… an emotion he can’t quite name.

She turns away, practically hiding behind Alya, but he can see how red the tips of her ears are, and he feels that sick, sick, sick guilt again because he’s making her nervous. He’s making her nervous on a stupid theory that could be very wrong and it’s not fair of him to do this to Marinette—to do this to Ladybug.

He still wants to confirm though, he _needs_ to confirm, so he stupidly asks, before his brain can catch up with his mouth, “Want to come over to study for the test after school?”

His own eyes widen as her face registers his words with shock, but before either of them can react, the bell rings and the teacher coughs, gathering the attention of all the students.

He can hear Marinette and Alya whispering behind him and he so sorely wishes he was Chat Noir right now, with that superior hearing ability so he could know what they were saying—just as much as he wishes he could have been smoother about that interaction… And as the teacher lectures he can barely hear it, can barely bring himself to take notes because he’s so _aware_ of Marinette behind him, and he can think of nothing else but her electric blue eyes.

He manages to make it through the class though, manages to sit quietly—for the most part—and manages not to whip around to stare at Marinette, manages not to make himself seem more awkward than he already is… he manages. Not well, but he manages. Because he still fidgets the entire time, tapping his pencil on his notebook, bouncing his knee, running his hands nervously through his hair, and Nino had to remind him more than once to just _calm down._

* * *

 

Lunch is better, easier, less eventful, and Marinette-free. He’s going to be able to chat with Nino and for the entire lunch break; he is going to be able to think of something other than her and all the unknowns in this very ridiculous situation.

“So, dude, do you have a thing for Marinette or something?”

Adrien nearly chokes on his sandwich, coughing hard as Nino pats his back awkwardly.

“U-uh, it’s not like that,” he laughs, trying to sound casual, but it sounds a little too forced, “I just…”

 _I just what?_ _What was my plan here? Just have her come over and somehow be super suave and not mess up and also, I don’t know, like, casually ask ‘hey are you that super famous superheroine who doesn’t want to be known?’ Yeah, because that’d go well._

He could almost hear Plagg laughing at him now—or, he would if Plagg wasn’t currently sleeping soundly in the bottom of his bag.

“You just…?” Nino prompts, quirking an eyebrow up with a small smirk.

“I just thought it’d be a good chance for all of us to hang out…” Adrien supplies quickly, “and wherever Marinette goes, Alya follows… _so,_ ” it’s Adrien’s term to smirk, “ _you_ and _Alya_ can spend some time together, too.”

If the blush that rises so heavily on Nino’s face is any indication, Adrien’s suggestion works well enough to distract Nino.

One text from Nino to Alya, and another few texts from Alya to Marinette later, plans were made to go to Adrien’s after school to study for tomorrow’s test. Though, the idea that any studying will get done seems dubious, the plans are made and set, for better or worse.

* * *

 

“Marinette, stop pacing, girl, you’re fine!”

“I am NOT fine!” Marinette shoots back, throwing her hands in the air, as though that will explain her agitation.

“I don’t get why you’re so stressed, you should be over the moon!”

At this, Marinette slumps, “I’m going to mess this up, I don’t know how, but I’m going to mess this up…” Marinette’s voice drops to a near whisper, “Just like I mess _everything_ up.”

Alya’s face softens, as she moves to comfort her friend.

Marinette should be excited, she should be thrilled, but she’s only nervous. She’s doubtful. She’s worried.

Her crush, Adrien, had just asked her to go to his house, she should be singing her excitement, giggling with euphoria, and dancing about in a haze of joy, yet here she was pacing and stewing in her doubts. It’s frustrating, it’s worrisome, and… it’s exciting.

But she has bigger problems, like, why can she never talk around Adrien? She’s never dealt with this before. This being these… these feelings she has every time he’s around her. The flutter in her lungs whenever he flashes her that golden smile. The lightness in her soul, but the heaviness in her heart.

How is it that one moment she considers him nothing more than just another one of Chloe’s lowly cronies, and the next she’s desperately _in lov_ —and the next she has a crush, a measly, hopeless crush? Part of her wishes he had never shown her kindness, never apologized, and had just left her to her assumptions.

But… he’d been so nice—a timid, shy, quiet, and sweet nice. The sort of nice, the sort of fumbling, awkward, trying-way-too-hard nice that is born from a lifetime of loneliness. And he’d handed her that damn umbrella—the one she still wants Chat Noir to return—and she’d felt her heart melt as he disproved every idea she’d drawn up of him.

Because he’d shown her that he wasn’t another rich brat. He’d shown her that he was, _and is_ , just a lonely kid who doesn’t always know what to do—that people aren’t always what they seem, and that he hadn’t known better about what and who Chloe was. He’d shown her that he’s trying to figure himself out, and he’s trying to reach out. And he’s trying make friends.

He’d shown her that he’s just a lonely kid who wants friends—a kid who had spent his life behind the bars of fame and fortune and his father (though maybe she doesn’t actually know that much yet, but she would, she would someday, because someday—not today—she’d know every side of him, just as he’d know every side of her).

He just wants friends.

And who is she to deny someone a friend?

So she smiles, giggles, and accepts his friendship, and it’s when their hands touch that she feels that first _thump, thump,_ of her heart. The same sensation, reaction, feeling she gets every time she sees him—every time she sees him smiling and happy and living the life any middle schooler should live.

But now she’s stuck here, nervous, so deeply in _lo_ —infatuated with this quiet, kind, and famous model. And he’s just asked her to study with him— _he_ had asked _her_ to spend time with him.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng, you are my best friend and we are going to Adrien’s house to hang out with him and Nino and we will have so much fun.” Alya says sternly, pulling Marinette up from the ground where she’d dropped down in despair.

“You are a wonderful and creative person, and devilishly funny, if he doesn’t marry you, maybe I will.”

“A-Alya!” Marinette protests weakly, her face flooding with red.

“Girl, just gimme the word and I’ll drop down on one knee,” she replies, grinning impishly.

Marinette giggles, one hand covering her face while the other pushes lightly at Alya’s shoulder, “you’re ridiculous…”

“Ridiculously great.”

“Yeah, that too.”

Marinette can’t get rid of her nerves, and Alya can see it in the way her friend’s eyes remain clouded over with worry, and the fact that she won’t stop fiddling with the buttons on her jacket.

“It’ll be alright, I’ll be there, and Adrien obviously thinks your cool since he asked you specifically.”

“I-I g-guess so…”

“Yeah? Well I _know_ so.”

The two girls dissolve into giggles once more, all at once the nervous in tension in the room dissipating. Marinette’s sides hurt from her laughter, but it’s nice, and it’s freeing. As long as she has Alya by her side she can do anything. She can do _anything_ —even face the imposing and intimidating Adrien… well, at least she hopes she can.

“Alya, you’re the best,” Marinette says, after the laughter subsides.

“Girl, you too… but, uh, I expect you to be a good wingma—wingwoman?” she pauses with a thoughtful look on her face, “yeah, whatever, wingwoman.”

Marinette snorts sharply, “Yeah, yeah, anything for you, darling, though I don’t need to do much, really, it’s obvious that Nino is smitten with you.”

* * *

 

“Dude, I don’t know why I invited myself and invited Alya into this… this… Adri…Adrinette deal, because oh god I am not ready to face her.”

“Did you just give Marinette and I a _ship_ name?”

Nino laughs, but nods shamelessly.

“We are _not_ a ship, oh my god, Nino. Ladynoir is a ship, but like, no, no, Adrinette is not a ship!”

“Man, if half the class knew what a dork you were, you and your obsession with superheroes.”

“Ahem, only one superhero has my heart, and that’s Ladybug,” Adrien cuts in, cheeks red, but eyes filled with indignation.

He’s kind of pleased with the name, though because it is him and it is Ladybug and even if Nino doesn’t know that, he’s happy, he’s thrilled, he’s got his head in the clouds because even just the idea of him and the lady he has given his heart… it gives him a warm, fuzzy feeling. The idea of _Adrinette,_ the idea of _Ladynoir_ is kind of enticing.

“Ok, loverboy,” Nino laughs, “whatever, you say, though I’m pretty sure she’s taken by Chat Noir, so, like, maybe lower your standards a bit…”

It takes all of Adrien’s self-control not to start choking again, “Y-yeah, Chat Noir…”

Nino continues, unaware of the slightly panicked look in Adrien’s vibrantly green eyes, “Though maybe super model, straight a student, Adrien Agreste can compete with Chat Noir…” his voice lowers to a conspiratorial whisper, “as long as she never finds out what a closet nerd you are.”

“Oh shut up, Nino! This isn’t even about me, weren’t you just freaking out about Alya?”

At this Nino sputters, setting down his juice box with a mock-offended look on his face, “I was not freaking out, I was just, uh, having a moment.”

Adrien snickers, but says nothing more, going back to eating, hoping to finish his meal before the lunch hour is over.

It isn’t until they’re finished and cleaning up their mess that Nino says anything more, “Adrien?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t want to mess up in front of Alya… she’s… she’s, like, actually really cool.”

“You could never mess up…”

But within Adrien’s reassurances he has the underlying understanding of Nino’s worry. Marinette seems nothing like Ladybug unless someone takes the time to look closer, and some small part of him is screaming at him to ‘STOP!’ before it’s too late. Before he’s ruined both Marinette’s and Ladybug’s trust.

But he can’t stop, he won’t stop, because he’s a dumb, persistent cat in love.

And you know what they say; curiosity killed the cat.

He’s just hoping that satisfaction will bring it back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if u think marinette and alya wouldn't just go to marinette's house everyday for lunch i think you're being silly.
> 
> (also if u think that nino and adrien wouldn't just be chillin' during lunch and drinking juice boxes then i also think you're wrong because god damn, as someone who was never allowed to have sugary drinks, i take every opportunity i can to drink juice boxes and capri suns and the like)


End file.
